


when the fight leaves my body

by TheImaginativeFox



Series: bad things happen to the people you love [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 08:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20927030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheImaginativeFox/pseuds/TheImaginativeFox
Summary: Whumptober Prompt 1: Shaky HandsDick is sleep-deprived and in over his head. Bruce steps in to get him out of it.





	when the fight leaves my body

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty, I know I'm super late to the party, but I really wanted to participate in Whumptober this year, so I'm going to try my best to catch up!

The vase comes out of nowhere, crashing into the back of Dick’s skull and making him see stars. It’s enough to let the guy he’s fighting get the upper hand: he sends a hard kick to Dick’s unguarded stomach, leaving him on the ground, gasping for air that won’t come. Someone’s on top of him then, holding him down as the other guy restrains him with what sounds and feels like zip-ties. He tries to lash out but it’s no use; there’s no room to move and he’s been running on fumes for the last ten minutes. There’s no fight left in him.

“What should we do with him?”

“Well, we can’t just leave him here—those zip-ties aren’t going to hold him long enough to let us finish clearing this place!”

They’re right, too; even in this state, Dick could get out of them without breaking a sweat.

“I dunno, toss him in the pier maybe? That should give us enough time.”

“Works for me. Take his feet, will you?”

As soon as the weight leaves his back, Dick instinctively takes a deep, slightly-gasping breath. Then he’s back to fighting, trying to get free or at least knock the wanna-be criminals off balance. “Come on, guys, you don’t wanna do this.”

“Quit squirming or we’ll shoot you for good measure.”

Dick doesn’t feel like calling their bluff, not in his condition. Instead, he takes a deep breath and prepares himself for the cold as the two goons toss him over the yacht’s railing and into the freezing water below.

A sharp pain dances across his back as he lands face-up in the water. He sinks down into the murky water, and despite all of his training and anticipation, the cold still makes him gasp in an attempt to get air, but all he gets is a mouthful of water.

He doesn’t have much time.

He tries to get himself upright and starts kicking. At the very least, he knows he can’t be far from shore; he could still see the docks when he was fighting on the yacht. Eventually, his head breaks the surface and all he can do is cough and gasp for a few seconds. He lets himself sink back down for a moment, just long enough so that he can get his hands in front of him. He’s not going to be able to get the zip-ties off in the water, but he can work with this.

He swims back up and takes another gulp of air, and then starts doing an awkward half-swim toward shore. It takes a while, but he does make it. He collapses on the rocks and takes his emergency comm out of his pocket, turning it on and lifting it to his ear with shaky hands. “Hey, B? Remember that yacht party we decided to ditch tonight? I was just there. Total blast.”

“Do you require backup?” Bruce asks.

Dick lifts his arms above his head and pulls them down fast, breaking the zip-ties on the first try. “Love some.” He grabs a batarang from another pocket and gets to work on the zip-ties around his ankles.

“Tracking your location now. ETA three minutes.”

“Awesome.” Dick lies back on the rocks, all too aware that this is a bad decision. But he’s tired, and Bruce is handling it. He closes his eyes and—

They snap them open when he feels someone’s fingers prodding his throat. He pushes the hand away before he can recognize that it’s Batman who’s hovering over him. “Where?” he asks, sitting up so quickly that the world goes black for a few seconds. A harsh shiver wracks his body; Bruce doesn’t seem to notice.

“Are you out of your damned mind?” Bruce growls at him. “I told you to stay at the cave.”

Dick glares at Bruce in a way he hasn’t in a long time. “I don’t think what I do is your decision anymore.”

“It becomes my decision when you haven’t slept for three days, something that almost got you killed tonight.”

“I’m fine.” He says, rolling his eyes behind his mask. He had it under control; at no point was he actively in danger of dying. And as if Bruce hasn’t gone on patrol with less sleep.

“You bleeding, concussed, and at least mildly hypothermic.” The words sound angry, but Bruce’s voice screams, _you scared me_. Picking up on that is enough to turn Dick’s defensiveness to guilt. “And need I remind you that you could’ve drowned? You got lucky tonight, and you should’ve called for backup sooner.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” Dick tilts forward, leaning his forehead against Bruce’s shoulder, effectively shutting down the conversation.

Bruce stiffens but wraps his arms around Dick all the same and sighs. “Can you walk?”

“Dunno.” 

“Hn.” Bruce shifts his arms under Dick’s knees and behind his back before he stands up and starts walking. “The car’s not far.”

“What about the pirate situation?” Dick asks through chattering teeth.

“Under control,” Bruce assures. “I sent Robin and Red Robin after them when I found you unconscious. The police will be here any minute to free the hostages and take statements.”

By the time they get to the car, Dick is already half asleep again. He’s hoping it’s just from sleep deprivation and not a serious head injury, but either way, he’s bound to get a lecture from Alfred when he gets back. For now, though, Bruce sets him down gently in the passenger seat and wraps him in one of the spare blankets. He walks around to the other side of the car and takes his spot in the driver’s seat, starting the car and turning the heat on full blast.

Bruce pulls out a pad of gauze and gestures for Dick to turn his head. He complies, then asks, “Is it deep?”

“You’ll need stitches, but from what I can see, there's no skull fracture. How’s the pain?”

“Um, six maybe?” Dick says once Bruce is finished and he’s allowed to lean against the seat again. He closes his eyes and soaks up the heat, finally letting himself relax.

Bruce looks him over one last time, then presses on the gas and settles on a speed that is probably faster than necessary. “Let’s get you home, chum.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it! Comments and kudos are always appreciated
> 
> [tumblr](https://the-imaginative-fox.tumblr.com/post/188178182243/when-the-fight-leaves-my-body)


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